Only Those Whose Lives Are Brief
by Terri Osborne
Summary: General-Romance - From the other side, Marcus watches the life he gave to Susan.


[AL][AC][KW (Kleenex warning)] 

If I've done everything right, you might want the tissues handy. 

Disclaimers:  
It all belongs to JMS, Warner Brothers, TNT, and anyone else with legitimate legal claim. Don't want them ('cept maybe our favorite martyrdom-waiting-to-happen), just borrowing them. No profit intended, just a little fun. 

Spoiler warning:  
Contains only *one* potential spoiler (that I know of) for Sleeping in Light.. Anything else is a very lucky guess. :-) 

The obligatory 

S  
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S  
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***** 

2262 

Words.  
The only things he could remember were the words.  
Everything else was oblivion.  
Blackness.  
Nothing.  
The void.  
Still, the words remained.  
Did they have any effect?  
Did she even hear them?  
"Oh, she heard, my friend."  
That voice. Where had he heard that voice before?  
"Was it that long ago?"  
The darkness receded, flowing away like the tide. In its place came colors. Brilliant, radiating colors the likes of which he had never seen in his life.  
Of course, that was before the words.  
Vibrant reds appeared before him, coalescing into incredible violets, blues, greens and oranges. It was almost like watching a nebula spiraling away.  
"That's because it *is* a nebula."  
The voice was getting closer.  
Still, the colors swam before him.  
Where was he?  
"Delenn would probably say that you were in a place where no shadows fall."  
There was a disturbance in the pool of color, almost as if something were coming to the surface. When it finally arrived, a solid shape from the liquid morass, he knew why the voice was so familiar.   
Lorien.  
"Yes."  
"Where are we?" he asked, his own voice swirling among the colors.  
The oldest sentient creature in the galaxy stepped slowly toward him, the mere sight becoming an anchor in the current. "A place beyond normal space."  
"Beyond the Rim?"  
"Yes," Lorien nodded, "and no."  
As an answer, it was precisely what he expected. "Susan?"  
Lorien's eyes closed. "She survives."  
A small rose of comfort bloomed in his mind. "It worked."  
"Yes. She is learning."  
"Learning?"  
"Watch."  
With a swipe of Lorien's hand, the colors ceased their motion. A pool of black formed. He could see stars against the darkness.  
A ship slowly came into the window.  
Something instinctive said that it was a destroyer, but it wasn't like any destroyer that he had ever seen. It had the stocky build of an Earth ship, but no rotating sections. Had the brain trust at Earthdome finally figured out artificial gravity? The superstructure was sculpted in slopes and curves. Was it possible that they could have gotten the technology from the Minbari?  
No matter, the pilot in him envied whoever had been given command of this ship.  
The view dissolved into another image, what he presumed was the destroyer's bridge. The place reminded him of the White Star's bridge, almost too much, especially with the artificial gravity.  
"Talk to me. What's out there?"  
The sound of her voice was like a sword through his soul, but the sight was enough to heal even that wound. She'd never told him as much, but he knew that she had always longed for her own ship. Now she had it. Only the uniform had changed.  
She had looked so beautiful in the black. It had suited her so well.  
But now, even that was gone.  
He'd thought the old Earthforce blues were ugly. Who had come up with the gray and red idea?  
"It's some kind of a disturbance, Captain."  
She shook her head in a manner that he knew meant 'that much is obvious.' Her bridge crew, however, must not have picked up on her style yet. "Anything else?"  
"Readings are unclear, Captain. Energy levels are off the scale."  
He wasn't certain where his view was coming from, but if it was a camera, she looked right into it. "Any sign of temporal displacement?"  
That was his Susan, always trying to find the answers, even when she wasn't sure of the questions.  
"No, Captain."  
He saw the idea light up her eyes. "Wait a minute." She turned away from the camera, walking back to the crewman's station. She punched a few buttons, checked the readings, and looked back up to the camera. "Hello."  
"What's she picking up?" he asked.  
"Me," Lorien replied. "She has accessed the records from your ship at the moment I left for the Rim."  
"She can see us?"  
"Yes."  
"Can I talk to her?"  
"No. You may only observe."  
The fact pained him to no end, but he reluctantly accepted it. It was enough to know that she was alive and where she was always meant to be.  
That was when he saw it.  
The gray of her new uniform had almost masked it out, but a shaft of light caught the Izil'z'ha crystal. "How long has it been?" he asked.  
"Not long enough."  
"Then . . . that's mine," he whispered.  
"Yes," Lorien stated. "Fascinating, isn't it?"  
Susan punched a few more buttons on the console, and he began to hear the beep of a communication signal. "Is she-?"  
"Signaling us?" Lorien finished. "Yes, she is. Quite a memory, that one."  
"You'd be amazed," he said.  
The signal sounded again.  
"Are you going to answer her?"  
"We cannot."  
He glared at Lorien. "I thought *I* was the one who could only observe. She knows it's you."  
"She suspects-"  
"This is *Susan*. Trust me, she knows."  
Susan looked directly into the camera. "Give it five minutes, Mister O'Connell. If there's no response to that signal, note our location and continue on course."  
To his surprise, Lorien appeared relieved. "Do you think she'd be so ready to leave if she suspected you were here?"  
His thought process caught at that question. If Lorien was right, she had heard the words. If the Izil'z'ha crystal was what he thought it was, then she wore one of the only things he had ever cherished. A thought drifted by. What had become of his denn'bok?  
"Oh, she has that, as well," Lorien said. "Was rather insistent about it, actually."  
"You saw her?"  
A sly smile crept onto Lorien's face. "You would be surprised at what possibilities are available in this new realm, my friend."  
He drifted back to Susan, wondering precisely what Lorien meant.  
"You will discover them," Lorien answered. "In time." 

***** 

2265 

February 

"Damn it! Lyta, why? Why are you doing this?"  
He watched Susan's fist slam into the tunnel wall. She was angrier than he had ever seen before. He wasn't sure he wanted to know precisely what the telepath had done to engender such a response.  
"Because I have to," Lyta shot back.  
"Because of Byron?" He was surprised at how petulant Susan sounded. "Lyta, what's happened to you?"  
While he watched, Lyta's eyes turned the color of space itself. "You have no idea. You've been hiding with *them* for so long, *Captain*. Have you forgotten that you're one of *us*?"  
Susan's head wagged. "I will *never* be one of you, Lyta."  
"You hate the Corps as much as we do, Susan. Why not fight them with us?"  
Susan gestured toward someplace outside of their room. "Because you aren't fighting just the Corps anymore, Lyta. Normals are dying out there. They've declared war."  
"Survival of the fittest," was the matter-of-fact response. "It's simple evolution."  
"Through chaos?" Susan asked. "I thought you worked for the Vorlons. There's no order in this."  
"None that someone who denies what they are could see."  
Susan began pacing. The sight heartened him. "Lyta," she said, "I've talked to some of your people. Byron never would have supported this kind of violence."  
"But he isn't here. They killed him."  
"That's not what John said."  
"He wasn't there!" Lyta snarled. "He doesn't know what really happened!" She stared long and hard at Susan.  
Susan's hand went to her forehead. Her head shook as if she'd been hit. "I understand," she whispered. "Trust me."  
"No, you don't."  
Susan recovered enough to shoot back, "Does the name Marcus Cole ring a bell? Look, I can't understand everything you went through, but give me a little credit here, okay?"  
Lyta's eyes closed. When the opened again, the blackness was gone. "I'm sorry, Susan."  
He saw a figure tucked into a dark corner behind Lyta. Judging by the way Susan was standing, she hadn't seen it yet.  
"You don't need to be sorry, Lyta. Just find a way to put a stop to this war."  
"I don't think it can be stopped anymore."  
"There's always a way," Susan said.  
The movement was barely perceptible. If he hadn't been watching the shadows, he wouldn't have seen it at all. Part of the figure lengthened.  
An arm.  
He could see something in its hand.  
A PPG.  
"Susan!" he yelled, but to no avail.  
The PPG discharged.  
Susan hit the dirt, drawing and charging her own weapon.  
When she came up, Lyta was in the line of fire.  
"Get down!"  
The redhead smiled. "Maybe you're right."  
Susan bobbed around, obviously trying to get a line of sight. "Lyta, get down!"  
He was quite painfully reminded of his position as observer as the events unfolded. Shot after shot fired between Susan and the shooter. Susan tried desperately to fire around the redhead and into the shadows. It seemed as if the firefight would last an eternity.  
The last thing he saw of the battle was both PPGs firing simultaneously.  
Then Lyta went down in a crumpled heap.  
He wanted to scream, but knew it would accomplish nothing. The blurring of his window *did* pull a scream from him. "No! Susan!"  
It was an accident.  
It had to be.  
She had been aiming for the shooter.  
Lyta had stepped in the way.  
Hadn't she?  
Susan wasn't a killer.  
Was she?  
A knife twisted in his soul. He retreated into a corner of his existence. It would take time to sort out what he had just seen, and he had all the time in the universe. 

***** 

2266 

December 

Earthforce had taken her ship away.  
She had simply stood by and let them do it.  
Now, all she had was a small office tucked away in a secluded part of Earthdome. The guilt had made her nothing more than a figurehead. Its effects were there for anyone to see. Dark circles were etched under her eyes. Her movements were plodding, listless.  
The Susan he had known was nowhere to be found.  
The Susan he watched was wasting away to nothing because of her guilt.  
He moved closer to the window, wishing nothing more than to stop being an observer. The sight of her was killing him.  
There had to be something he could do.  
So he moved even closer to the window.  
Closer.  
His vision swam.  
When it finally came back, he realized that something had changed. He looked around. Lorien was nowhere to be seen. He was standing in the middle of Susan's office.  
"What the-?"  
Susan stared at the papers in front of her, seemingly oblivious to his presence.  
"Susan?"  
There was no response.  
He stepped toward her, stopping a mere inches behind her chair. He had to lean over her shoulder to figure out what had her so engrossed.  
The lighting was dim, but just enough to see that the paper had the word 'discharge' printed in very large letters at the top.  
"Susan," he whispered. He reached a hand out to touch her, but it passed through her shoulder.  
She grabbed a glass from the desktop. The half-empty bottle of vodka behind it worried him. After a long drink, she refilled the glass.  
Apparently resigned to the task, Susan opened the desk drawer. Her hand aimed for a pen, but found something else first.  
A Ranger pin.  
She lifted it out of the drawer, cradling it in her palm. "Why? You wouldn't have killed her. Why did you let me live?"  
A fist clenched around his soul. "You know why," he whispered.   
There was a knock on the office door. She hurriedly placed the pin back in the drawer, yelling, "Go away."  
"Captain?" a voice asked. It was muffled, but somehow familiar. "I think you'll want to see this."  
She put the glass down, not bothering to hide the alcohol. "What is it, David?"  
David? His curiosity was distinctly aroused as the door opened. "The autopsy report finally came through, Captain."  
He looked up a split-second before Susan. "Corwin!"  
No one appeared to have heard him.  
Susan folded her arms on the desk. "What does it say that I don't already know?"  
Corwin opened the folder, "How about cause of death?"  
"PPG burns, I know that," she said, backing it with a bleary glare.  
"Not this," Corwin said. "And I quote 'cause of death, severe PPG burn to the spinal cord, penetrating into the heart'."  
Susan's eyes widened, "The shot from the back?"  
"The shot from the back."  
"Who did the autopsy?"  
"Doctor Franklin."  
His thoughts skipped at just the idea of Stephen having to perform Lyta's autopsy.  
"So we know it's right," she said. "Stephen wouldn't hide anything, not in an autopsy report, at least."  
Corwin sat the folder in front of her. "Just in case you want to read more."  
She flipped it back open. "Nothing about a chest wound?"  
Corwin shook his head. "Nope." Without another word, Corwin left Susan alone with the report.  
"I didn't do it," she whispered.  
He smiled. "No, you didn't."  
She picked up the discharge paper, crumpling it into a little ball. "Thank you, God," she whispered.  
Certain that it was futile, he still reached a hand out to touch her cheek.  
He barely saw her lean into that touch before he was pulled back. 

***** 

2271 

"I have to go back," he said.  
Lorien did not look pleased. "You are endangering her if you go back. It is better for you to remain an observer."  
He was baffled by Lorien's attitude. "Endangering her? How?"  
"She never told you?"  
"Told me what?"  
Lorien shook his head regretfully. "If you had consulted with me before you crossed back into her world, I would have warned you of the danger."  
After so many years, he still found his companion frustrating. "Would you *please* cut the preamble?"  
"As you wish. She has spent most of her life in hiding."  
"Hiding from what?"  
"That which she fears most."  
That meant only one thing. "Psi Corps. She's a telepath?"  
Lorien merely nodded.  
"And she could tell I was there?" he asked, his thoughts whirling. "Even though-"  
"She considers you dead? Yes. Simply because you are here does not mean that you have ceased to exist."  
He considered Lorien's words for a very long time. It was comforting to know that he still existed, but the idea that he couldn't risk visiting Susan again wasn't good at all.  
"You can't expect me to just sit back and watch for the rest of her life. There will have to be a time when the risk is low. Susan won't let anyone from the Corps near her, let alone close enough to scan her. No one would ever know."  
"But, she has allowed them near already. She allowed it to save many, many lives. Can you be so certain she would not allow it again?" Lorien lifted his arm to the swirling colors that surrounded them. "Observe."  
The window formed, opening on Susan in what looked to be the corridors of Earthdome. The darkness that had shrouded her years before was gone. He noticed a few streaks of gray appearing in her chocolate brown hair, but brushed the sight aside. No matter how much older she was, the light had finally come back to her eyes. This vision more closely resembled the Susan he had known than anything he'd seen in his last few years of observation. He was quite pleased by the new uniform she wore, for it held the insignia of an Admiral.  
"Admiral!"  
She turned just in time for Corwin to catch up. He wanted to laugh. After ten years, and what looked like Corwin's own promotion to captain, he was still her assistant. Some things really never *did* change. "Yes, David?"  
"Word's come in on that new adjutant from the Telepath Guild."  
"They *know* I don't need another aide," she stated.  
Corwin shook his head. "The Guild is insisting."  
"And so am I."  
"With all due respect, Admiral, the President won't back down on this. I don't need to remind you that every Admiral in Earthforce is required to carry an adjutant from the Guild. Part of the peace treaty. You remember, the one *you* helped write?"  
She groaned. "I never said *that* part was my idea. Who ever thought I'd live to make admiral, anyway? What's the word on this . . . adjutant?"  
Corwin pulled a file from behind his back. "Well, her name is Cassandra Alexander."  
"Alexander?" she asked. It was as common a surname as any other, but could it really be? "Any relation to Lyta?"  
"Niece," Corwin said.  
Susan smiled, and said words that he had never thought he would hear. "Telepath or not, if she's related to Lyta I suppose she's welcome around here. When does she start?"  
A distinctly female voice appeared. "How does right now sound?"  
He couldn't resist a laugh at the sight of an incredibly surprised Susan standing beside a very guilty Corwin. How could Susan have been a telepath and not sensed this Cassandra's presence?  
"Ms. Alexander," Susan said, extending a hand toward the woman. For her niece, the resemblance to Lyta was uncanny. Cassandra's bright reddish-blonde hair was pulled back into a twist, and her deep green suit reminded him of so many business suits he had seen Lyta wear so long ago. Outside of the facial differences, he could see only two things that set Cassandra and Lyta Alexander apart. Cassandra was about two or three inches shorter than Lyta had been; and where Lyta's eyes had very nearly matched her hair, Cassandra's were a bright, almost gemlike, green.  
"Thank you for not throwing me out, Admiral," Cassandra said, taking Susan's hand. "And please, call me Cassandra." He noticed with some curiosity that the telepath was not wearing gloves. A thought occurred to him. If Susan had helped write the treaty that ended the apparent war with the telepaths, what had happened to the Psi Corps? It was an intriguing concept, but it held his attention for only a moment.  
"I don't throw any of my friends' relatives out, Cassandra."  
"But, what about-?" Corwin started.  
He was quickly cut off by one of Susan's glares. "Not right now, Captain," she stated, putting emphasis on his rank.  
Cassandra released Susan's hand with a broad smile. "To be honest, Admiral, I'm surprised. Your animosity for the old Corps is legendary. The way you helped Michael Garibaldi to take down Bester, that was amazing. Since you helped us restructure after the war, I would have thought-"  
"Guilt is an amazing motivator, Miss Alexander."  
Even he winced at the ferocity of Susan's statement. He could only imagine what Cassandra had felt telepathically.  
"My apologies, Admiral. I remind you too much of the incident with my aunt. I understand completely."  
Susan raised one eyebrow.  
"No, Admiral. I did not scan you." Cassandra turned to Corwin. "If you look in my file, you'll find a signed agreement restraining me from scanning the Admiral without her express, uncoerced consent. The consequences of which would be my immediate classification as rogue and relocation to the new telepath prison complex at Syria Planum. Trust me, I have no intention of going to Mars anytime soon."  
Corwin opened the file, handing Susan a flimsy. "She's right, Admiral. It's right here."  
Susan read the flimsy over, her expression blank to the people standing with her. He, however, knew that look all too well. It told him she was considering every option of the contract, and any possible way that she could get out of it.  
"Refresh my memory," Susan said, "how do you understand the requirements for this assignment?"  
Cassandra pursed her lips. "Well, every admiral and higher in Earthforce is assigned a telepath, minimum level of P11, to assist in a variety of missions. I would report directly to you, with you reporting on my performance to the Guild."  
"What kind of missions do you think you might be getting?"  
The telepath shrugged. "Considering your involvement in the various wars over the last decade, my purpose might be best served in guarding you against any telepaths loyal to the old order. I am a light sleeper, which gives me the capacity to be a twenty-four hour guard. I suppose I might be useful in intelligence gathering, any difficulties that might be had with the ship's crew, the usual situations where the truth can be hidden."  
Susan straightened somewhat. "Do you have any idea why the P11 level was written into the treaty?"  
Cassandra shook her head.  
"Something I found out once. High level telepaths, like, oh, a P11, can sense other ships in hyperspace."  
Cassandra's eyes bulged. "I was never taught how to do that, Admiral."  
"I was never taught how to do a lot of things, Cassandra. Trial by fire. You'll learn. And just so you know, I was around your aunt long enough to know when I'm being scanned. If that happens, that prison complex is going to be the least of your worries. Do I make myself clear?"  
Cassandra nodded. "As crystal."  
"Then, welcome to my staff."  
His window closed on Susan walking away from Corwin and Cassandra.  
"Now, you see," Lorien stated. "She is under constant guard. You cannot go back."  
He focussed on the spot the window had occupied. He had a suspicion that this Telepath Guild was the direct descendent of the old Psi Corps, which meant he didn't trust it, or Cassandra Alexander, for one second. "Cassandra can't watch her forever. Trust me, Lorien. There *will* be a time." 

***** 

2281 

Lorien was going back  
"Where? When?" he asked.  
Lorien stood silent, his expression somber.  
He was growing desperate. "Lorien, please, answer me. You said you were going back across. Why?"  
"I am needed."  
"*You're* needed? Don't tell me the Shadows have crossed back as well."  
"No, my friend. You see, you and I have something in common."  
The non sequitur threw him off. "What?"  
Lorien raised his golden eyes slowly. "We have each left some of ourselves behind. Nothing more than energy, really, but it is ours, nonetheless."  
It was slow to dawn on him. "You left some of your . . .. Oh, I get it. You gave some of your life to someone."  
The golden eyes closed. "Yes. And that energy is on the verge of being spent."  
"The Captain. You brought Captain Sheridan back? He really *was* dead?"  
"Yes on both counts, my friend. Where your actions were motivated by love, my hands were moved by necessity."  
"Necessity? Lorien, Susan-"  
"Is an excellent tactician, but Captain Sheridan possessed something that she did not."  
It didn't take much for him to remember that time. The war with the Shadows had been raging. Sheridan had left for Z'ha'dum. Then it had all just stopped. Rumors had flown about Sheridan's death. It had forced Susan to take over. After he'd heard about the rescue mission to Z'ha'dum, *he* had certainly thought Susan up to the task. What had been missing?  
"Her heart," Lorien answered. "She had not spoken to her heart for a long time. Without that capacity for observation, she would not have found the answer that finally allowed me to take the Vorlons and Shadows beyond the Rim."  
He scolded himself for being so blind, and blamed himself for being such a coward. "That would explain a lot."   
"There is nothing to blame yourself for. Your actions succeeded in re-opening that door for her."  
He allowed his mind to swim briefly, stopped by one realization. "Wait a minute, Captain Sheridan's dying?"  
"Yes."  
"I have to go back with you."  
Lorien appeared to consider the statement, then nodded. "All right, but you can make your presence known to no one. You may only-"  
"Observe. I get the idea."  
"Are you certain you wish to come?" Those golden eyes turned gravely serious. "Susan will not be there."  
This worried him. "Where will she be?"  
"Where her presence will do the most good. She is finally ready."  
"Ready? For what?"  
"You will see when we arrive."  
His worry soon turned to impatience. After all these years, Lorien still had the capacity to drive him quite batty, quite fast.  
Fortunately, he still had a few tricks up his sleeve.  
He stared at the swirls of color, willing the window to open.  
The colors continued to swim.  
His focus intensified.  
He felt his entire being start to drift beyond his control.  
The swirling slowed, until finally the window appeared.  
He caught himself at the sight of Delenn trying to speak to Susan.  
"My old friend," the Minbari said, "I know that you are no longer happy with your position. Please. Accept this offer."  
Susan shook her head. "Delenn, I can't. It wouldn't-"  
"Be proper?"  
"No. I'm not even one of them."  
Delenn folded her arms over her chest. "Susan," she chided, "you are no more one of them than I ever was."  
"But-"  
"You have already led them into battles. You fought the Shadows together. You fought Earth together. With David in training-"  
Susan gave her a hard look. "You don't want to take the chance of sending your son on a suicide mission. So you want me to do it? Is that what you want?"  
He realized then what was happening. Delenn must have known what was going on with Sheridan. He knew Delenn well enough to know that she would probably return to Minbar for good when Sheridan finally passed away. She could certainly handle Minbari business from there. What she needed was someone to be out in the field, someone to be the next Ranger One.  
What eluded him was why Susan was declining.  
"Susan, what I want is what is best for the Rangers. That is you. If taking this position happens to be good for you as well-"  
Susan held out a hand to stop Delenn. "It's not that."  
The Minbari's slender fingers wrapped around Susan's hand. "It is Marcus, correct?"  
"Yes," Susan said, nodding. "He should be the one doing this, not me."  
Delenn folded her arms over her chest, her eyes thoughtful. "I wish that I knew some words of comfort. I worry for you, Susan. You have mourned for so long."  
The look of pain in Susan's eyes struck him. That was the moment he began to notice that some things were different. Susan's eyes, once bright and irrepressible, had turned caustic and severe. The light that had made them so beautiful seemed to have dimmed to near-nothingness. The years had brought more gray into her hair, but she made no effort to hide it. The fact that she was now wearing it loose seemed an effort to show off the streaks. She looked somehow older than she should. If anything, there was an edge of bitterness to her that he had never seen before. Had his death really done this much to her?  
"There's nothing you can do for me, Delenn. Not unless you can send me back in time twenty years."  
An idea lit up Delenn's features. "One thing I have learned is that sometimes we must look at a situation from a different perspective before making a decision."  
Susan raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"  
"Marcus."  
"What?"  
Delenn's smile widened. "You said that he should be doing this, not you, correct?"  
"Yes."  
"And the life energy within you is all that remains of him in this world, correct?"  
Susan nodded.  
"So, by choosing you to succeed me, do I not also choose him?"  
Even though he was only observing, Delenn's words began to sway him. If the look on Susan's face was anything to go by, he was not alone. Susan obviously had not thought along those lines yet.  
"Damn it, Delenn," Susan whispered. "I hate it when you do this."  
"No, old friend. You hate it when I am right."  
"That, too." Susan took a deep breath. "So, when do you need me to take over?"  
"As you know, the ceremony requires some preparation. We will be ready in approximately three days. I trust that you have not forgotten what you saw during the last ceremony?"  
Susan shook her head. "No. I remember what I have to do."  
"Good. Now, if you require my assistance in your resignation, you will notify me?"  
Those blue eyes thoughtfully closed and reopened, and Susan nodded. "Yes."  
Delenn smiled, and with a satisfied nod turned to step away. After three steps, she turned back. "Susan?"  
"Yes?"  
"You have reached the decision John hoped you would make. He could not tell you, but he was very proud of all that you had accomplished. As am I."  
Susan looked on the verge of tears. "Thank you."  
With another nod, Delenn turned and strode off.  
He was about to try closing the window when Susan reached a hand into her jacket. Curious, he watched as her closed fist emerged. With a heavy sigh, she opened her hand. The Izil'z'ha crystal gleamed for a brief second. The light was just enough for him to notice as a translucent drop fell onto the crystal's face.  
Susan brushed her free hand against her eyes. A stray lock of chocolate brown hair fell down along her face. She tucked it behind her ear with another, lighter, sigh.  
"What about you?" Susan whispered, sniffling somewhat.  
A sense of pride like he'd never known exploded in his soul, but it was mixed with an agonizing pain at the realization that he had no way open to tell her. Chalking up another regret, he fought the urge to go back across the thin boundary that still separated them. He couldn't do it. Who knew if Cassandra was nearby?  
He had no choice but to watch.  
Her fingers wrapped around the pin almost as if she were trying to make it a permanent part of her palm. Wiping away more tears, she turned the pin over and released the clasp. It didn't take long before she had it pinned to her jacket.  
Where it was supposed to be, he told himself.  
She took a deep breath, managing to control the outward signs of what he'd just witnessed, and stepped in the direction Delenn had taken.  
His control broke, closing the window.  
Lorien had said that she was finally ready.  
Lorien had said that she was going where she was most needed.  
Lorien had been right.  
And that was knowledge enough. 

***** 

2283 

When his vision cleared, he was in a bedchamber on Minbar.  
Lorien may have once thought it a risk, but this time it was one he had to take. This time would be his last chance.  
He decided to watch her sleep for as long as he could, supposing a decent night's rest to be the only gift he could give her now.  
Her hair had taken on even more gray in the last two years and fine lines marked her skin, but those were the only visible changes. His Susan was still there, and still as beautiful to him as she had ever been.  
She stirred ever so slightly in her sleep, causing him to back away from the bed.  
The bed. It hadn't registered before, but she had managed to get a horizontal bed onto Minbar. He smiled. The ever-resourceful Susan Ivanova strikes again.  
She rolled over, and the faint light reflected in her open eyes. "Marcus?"  
"Hello, Susan," he whispered. Smiling, he added, "Or should I call you Entil'zha?"  
She shook her head. "Why break a tradition?"  
He stepped over, wanting to sit on the bed but not sure if he could. "I always had a feeling I'd make Ranger One someday. Never thought it would be quite in this manner, though."  
"This isn't a dream. I'm out of time, aren't I?" she asked.  
Cut to the chase, that was the Susan he remembered. "I think so, yes."  
"I had a feeling. Have you been with me all along?"  
He shook his head. "Off and on. Lorien would only let me observe. He was concerned that any visits would put you at risk from the Corps."   
She sat up at the mention of Lorien's name. "You're with him?"  
"Yes."  
A soft smile touched her lips. "There were times I thought you were here."  
"I know," he said. "For every one of those times, there were probably another twenty or more when I was watching you."  
Her eyes turned sad. "Did you see-"  
"Lyta? Yes."  
"Marcus, I tried, I really did." She was fighting off the tears. "She wouldn't listen. Then that guy started shooting and-"  
"And *he* shot her. You didn't."  
"When Lyta died . . . God, Marcus. I kept calling and calling for help, but nobody came. I couldn't do anything." Her eyes were so full of pain, and he could see the tears forming. "It was almost like losing you all over again."  
Whether it would work or not, he had to try the bed. It supported him as if he actually had achieved corporeality. "Don't you start that. You haven't lost me. I'm right here."  
"Until I die," she lamented. "Then where do you go?"  
He shrugged. "Don't know. I hear Narn is beautiful this time of year."  
She managed a glare. "I'm serious, Marcus," she said. "Are you stuck there as long as I'm alive?"  
He could almost feel her anguish. It was like something had a death-grip on his soul. "I honestly don't know," he whispered. "Lorien wouldn't give me any answers."  
Susan hugged herself. "Marcus?"  
"Yes?"  
"Why?"  
"What?"  
She looked him straight in the eyes and asked, "Why did you do it?"  
"You know why," he stated, staring back into her blue eyes.  
"You could have found a better way to tell me."  
He shook his head. "You were dying. I didn't have any other choice."  
"Yes, you did," she said, turning away. "You could have let me die. You *should* have let me die. You could have done so much better with this life than I did."  
"Better than Ranger One?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That was all I wanted, and through you I got it. *You* were the one that did it all, Susan. You're the war hero, not me."  
She buried her face in her cupped hands. "But it meant nothing."  
"What do you mean it meant nothing?"  
"Damn you," she said, pulling herself out of the bed. She wobbled slightly as she took as step. "I had no idea."  
He had the feeling that they'd just reached the crux the problem. "About what?"  
"What losing you would do to me," she said, her back to him. "How much I relied on you to be there. I can see it like it was yesterday. I closed my eyes and you were by the bed holding my hand. Sure, I was dying, but I was happier than I'd been in years. Then I opened my eyes and you were gone forever."  
"Not forever."  
She turned back toward him, shaking her head. "Oh, sorry, you're gone until the night I die. Then you turn up as a ghost on my bed."  
He pressed a hand against the bed, shocked when it didn't pass through the mattress. He could feel pressure against his fingers, and something verging on texture, but nothing more.  
It was enough.   
He slowly slid off of the bed. Susan had her back to him again. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, not quite long enough to reach the neckline of her nightgown. Even in the low lighting, he could make out the black satin fabric. From his vantage point, nothing had changed in twenty-two years.  
It took a second to calm his nerves. When he finally decided that since he was already dead, she couldn't very well kill him, he brought his fingers down on her bare shoulder. "Does that feel like a ghost to you?"  
When she turned around, her eyes were large enough to rest teacups on. Her lips moved as if she were trying to find words, but nothing made it through.  
"Susan Ivanova, speechless? I never thought I'd live to see the day. Wait a minute," he said, "I *didn't*, did I? Oh, well, you get the idea."  
She lifted her hand to his face, and he was surprised to find that he could feel her touch. Her fingers lingered on his cheek for a moment. "How?"  
He shrugged. "If I knew, I'd have done this a long time ago."  
A solitary tear worked its way down her face. "I'm dead, aren't I? Dead, or dreaming."  
"No. You aren't dead. As for dreams, I think last night was your last."  
Susan yawned. "I'm so tired, Marcus."  
His heart skipped. "Of course you are, it's two in the morning."  
"Tell me about it," she said, ignoring the attempt at humor. "What's the other side like?"  
"All sorts of color and light," he whispered, brushing her hair back with one hand. "With you here, it will be even more beautiful."  
She pressed her cheek into his chest. "I missed you."  
"I know," he said, wrapping his arms around her frail body. "Now we'll have eternity to drive each other batty."  
She laughed against him. "Only those whose lives are brief."  
"What?"  
"Something Lorien told me once. 'Only those whose lives are brief can imagine that love is eternal.'"  
He nodded. "He's got a point."  
"That he does. Then again, you always did have one hell of an imagination."  
It was his turn to laugh. "You know my theory on delusions."  
She yawned again. "If I weren't so damned tired, I could make it more satisfying for you."  
"I don't think it counts if I'm dead," he quipped.  
"Good thing," she said, sagging in his arms. "I don't think I can stand up anymore."  
Not wanting to risk carrying her back to the bed, he lowered them both to the floor. "Have you chosen a successor yet?"  
Susan nodded. "David."  
"Corwin?"  
"No," she said, managing a small laugh. "John and Delenn's son."  
"Ah, logical decision. Do you want me to go and fetch him?"  
Pursing her lips, she finally shook her head. "No. I've said my good-byes."  
"You knew this was coming?" he asked, surprised.  
"I've been getting weaker by the day. About two weeks ago I started needing help just to get out of bed in the morning. Stephen can't find a damned thing wrong with me. I don't know how I stood up this long. Who knew you only had twenty-two years left?" She lay down beside his folded legs, making a pillow of his thigh. "I'm glad you're here. I really missed you."  
He gently brushed her hair back from her face. "I heard Delenn say that you'd been mourning for a long time. Please tell me it wasn't for me."  
"Wish I could."  
"Susan," he breathed. "I could tell it had an effect on you, but--"  
"But nothing. It hit me harder than I thought anything ever would." She rolled onto her back, trapping his hand with her fingers. "I made a mistake. I thought I could live with it, but I was wrong."  
"*You* made a mistake? How?"  
"Letting you do what you did."  
He smiled a sad smile. "As I recall, a lot of people tried to stop me. They all failed. Believe me, the only thing you could have done was survive, and that wasn't going to happen without my help."  
"You're right. I hate it when you're right."  
While he watched, her eyes began to change. He couldn't explain how he knew, but he was certain it was death approaching. Susan seemed to be looking directly at him one second, and then past him the next.  
"Marcus?" she asked.  
"Yes?"  
"I can't see you. Where are you?"  
"Right here," he said, grabbing her hand. He was thankful for that revelation, because he didn't want Susan to see the pain he was certain was on his face. "Just close your eyes."  
She did as she was told, but it wasn't long before she was curled against him like a frightened child. "Don't leave me."  
"Never," he whispered. "Now, try and sleep."  
"No. I won't die in my sleep."  
He shrugged. "Well, we really don't have time to get a good dogfight going. Besides, you've already gone that route, remember?"  
"Oh, I remember," she chuckled. "All I want is for you to be here when it finally happens."  
He wanted to say *I am*, but instead replied, "As you wish."  
They sat in silence for a time, until he heard her breath begin to grow labored. If he'd still had a physical heart, it would have been somewhere in his throat. "Susan?"  
She pulled herself up, but she was unable to do it alone. When she finally settled back down, she was curled in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest. She lifted her head to whisper, "Marcus?"  
He didn't want to speak, didn't want her to hear what had to be in his voice. "Yes?"  
"I have to tell you something."  
He held her tightly to him, placing a kiss on her forehead. "What?"  
"I love you, too."  
With one final, rasping breath, she was gone.  
He felt her body sag against him, all signs of life vanished. Still, he gingerly slid out from under her, placing her entire body on the floor as delicately as he could manage. He wanted to scream, or cry, or pound a wall, something, anything, to let the emotions loose.   
That was when he found himself back in what passed for his reality. After twenty-two years, the colors weren't quite as beautiful anymore. Everything had lost its shine. He no longer had a reason to do anything, let alone continue on here.  
Alone.  
Lorien had left when Sheridan died, taking away the only companionship he'd had.  
Now that Susan was gone, why was he still here?  
The colors started to twist again, and he let his mind follow the patterns. His thoughts swirled around his life. Delenn had been right. He had never forgiven himself for being alive. What had there been to forgive? His life had been nothing but pain and guilt. Until she'd walked into that conference room that day. He'd survived everything because of Susan.  
So, what was he supposed to do now?  
The colors corkscrewed before him, and he finally figured out why it was a familiar pattern. Something was coming to the surface.  
"You're right, it is beautiful around here."  
He stared, speechless, as she stepped through the curtain of color. Her hair, untouched by the gray, fell in waves over her shoulders. Those bright, almost playful blue eyes met his, and he had to smile. It was his Susan, just a beautiful as the day he'd died.  
"So, what do you do for fun around here?" she asked, stepping closer.  
"Don't know," he said, finally finding his voice. "Let's find out." He closed the gap, wrapping himself around her spirit.   
'Only those whose lives are brief can imagine that love is eternal,' Lorien had said. He'd been right, and yet he'd been wrong, too.  
And eternity didn't seem quite so bad anymore. 

[FIN]

_BABYLON 5 names, characters and all related indicia are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, TNT and Warner Brothers, a division of Time Warner Entertainment Company. All rights reserved._


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